Chapter 33
Ledgar
Just before daybreak, I pull the covers away from her, and she stirs, opening those beautiful brown eyes.
A lazy smile forms on her gorgeous face.
“What are you doing?” she asks, tiredly.
I press her shoulder gently to the side, having her lie on her back.
I place my hands on her thighs, pushing her legs open wide.
She chuckles. “Haven’t you had enough?” I shake my head as I position myself at her entrance.
I thrust into her hard, sinking all the way to the hilt.
A satisfied groan leaves my throat, as I press my body to hers, careful not to put my entire weight on her.
Payson hooks her legs around my thighs, dragging me in deeper.
Our eyes lock and seeing the desire in hers nearly makes me explode.
I love how she wants me as much as I want her.
I pull out of her slowly, only to thrust back into her, reveling in the way her pussy stretches around me.
As if something has overtaken me, my pace becomes frenzied as I steal her breath with my own.
Gripping her hips, I slide her to the edge of the bed and lift her hips.
I nod to the pillow which she places underneath her ass.
She moans as I reposition myself and thrust into her.
I continue to fuck her at a punishing pace, nothing but the sounds of her moans and our bodies slapping against each other. “Fuck, Payson...” Thrust. “Your pussy was made for me.” Thrust. “You were made for me.” Thrust. “I can’t stop.”
“Ledgar,” she breathes my name in a needy moan.
She begins to tighten around me, and I feel my balls draw up as she starts spasming beneath me.
I fuck her harder, and deeper, until my own makes its way through me, and she screams out my name.
I collapse against her, nearly muttering those three little words.
My heart runs off and leaves me as I pull out of her, but I don’t stop.
I caress her breast with my mouth, teasing her little bud with my tongue until it’s hard, and I bite, softly.
She hisses a moan, arching into me. “Haven’t you had enough,” I mock her, as I kiss my way down her body until I reach her very wet, very sensitive spot.
I sit up, kneeling between her and scan my eyes all over her every inch of her.
I slide a finger into her, watching the way she sucks it in hungrily.
Her inner walls grip my finger tightly, and I slip another inside, before slowly fucking her with my fingers and flicking her clit with my tongue.
“Yes, just like that,” she whimpers. Her body starts to move against my face, riding my fingers and tongue in a delicious rhythm.
When I feel her tightening around me harder, I remove my fingers and replace them with my tongue, sucking and fucking her like I’m a starved man eating his last meal.
She rides my face faster, pushing and pulling my hair as she nears her release, and just like the devilish man I am, I stop.
She groans, covering her face. “Oh, don’t worry baby…
I’ll let you come,” I say cocky. I thrust into her.
Hard. Fast. Punishing. Fucking her the hardest I have ever.
She is going to be feeling me for days, weeks, years even, and that’s exactly what I want.
She tightens around me, moaning loudly. I grip her throat, applying just enough pressure it causes her to shatter, soaking me in her sweet juices.
“Jesus Christ, Payson…” I say as I fuck her through her orgasm.
I squeeze a little tighter, careful not to leave any marks as I find my own release again and spill everything I have into her.
She falls back asleep against me after we clean up.
The same way she has every other time, her hand resting lightly against me.
I’ve never had or made a woman orgasm like that before. Knowing I did fills me with pride.
Carefully, I move pulling away, easing her softly into the bed.
She doesn’t open her eyes, deep in sleep from the fucking I just gave her.
I sit there for a moment, staring at her, memorizing her for the last time.
The way her blonde hair falls across her face and spreads against my pillow.
The rise and fall of her breasts as she breathes.
The way she looks so peaceful, content. That is what I want to remember.
How I am and will be the reason she remains that way.
I don’t say goodbye. I can’t. I don’t leave a note, even though I want her to know this was very real, but I can’t give her anything to hold onto.
I can’t break her any more than I already am.
Anything I leave behind becomes something for her to hold onto, a reason for her to follow me, and I can’t allow that.
I stand, walking away, gathering every bit of my things as quietly as I can, shoving them into bags, and leave like I was never there to begin with.